


Full House

by Theoroark



Series: Wildlands [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Background Spiderbyte, Families of Choice, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Team Talon (Overwatch), Trans Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:14:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26157874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theoroark/pseuds/Theoroark
Summary: In which Gabriel Reyes goes from fighting demons to being one, and is very bad at keeping his secret husband from a house full of demons.
Relationships: Doomfist: The Successor | Akande Ogundimu & Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, Reaper | Gabriel Reyes & Widowmaker | Amélie Lacroix, Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Series: Wildlands [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1531307
Comments: 20
Kudos: 52





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [airafleeza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/airafleeza/gifts).



> For Ashlee, for the incredible and sweet art she did of my DND character- everyone please go follow & appreciate her on [twitter](https://twitter.com/airafleeza) rn!!!

Gabriel became a vampiric demon in the chaos of the battlefield. There were so many dead or dying around him, so much smoke from hellfire and cannons, no one noticed him fall, much less his eyes going red or his limp body being dragged away. He remembered the vampire that turned him taking him to a circle of runes, and then his memory started failing him. 

There was the smell of sulfur and incense, pressed right against his palate. There was a claustrophobic panic. There was a velvet couch he had been propped up on and a sunlit room and a confusion, because everything they had taught Gabriel as a soldier of goodness and civilization was that demons hated light. 

Gabriel’s memories started to clear up around Doomfist. When he remembered Doomfist meeting his gaze for the first time, he could remember the stuffy heat of the room they were sitting in. There was fire in the fireplace, even though it was the dead of July. Its smell was familiar and comforting. It smelled like coming home and knowing Jack was already there, and Gabriel remembered the pain and fear that cut in when he thought of Jack. 

Doomfist was a demon within the dimensions of humanity, but strange enough that he clearly was not human. His skin cracked in places, revealing fissures of molten earth. His eyes glowed orange, flickering into blue heat on occasion. He was solid and liquid all at once, dynamic in a way only a being formed of spite could be. When he spoke, Gabriel could swear he saw another, sharper, longer, row of teeth. 

“Your old life is gone,” Doomfist had told him. “You go back to the human settlement now, they kill you. Even if you can find someone to shelter you, you’ll hunger. Eventually, you’ll hunt. You’ll make them regret their mercy, and you won’t forgive yourself for it.” Gabriel had stared at the tastefully embroidered rug under his feet and known Doomfist was right. For decades, he and Jack had stopped demons from assailing their walls. Hunted downs ones that had snuck through. Reprimanded the people that helped them. Told them that they might wear their husband’s face, but their husband was gone. 

Gabriel knew Doomfist knew what he had done. Gabriel was still wearing his armor, blue and white cape of the Holy Army. His black sword wasn’t at his side anymore but it had been when he had fallen, and it denoted his rank. Doomfist knew who he was, just like Gabriel knew demons had been consolidating around a figure who spoke for salted earth and buildings going up in the Wildlands. Gabriel did not know what Doomfist wanted from him. 

“You’re free now,” Doomfist told him. “You can do whatever you like. But I know when I was reborn, I was lost. Lots of demons are. You shouldn’t feel embarrassed about seeking purpose.”

Gabriel had been trained since he was eighteen to never listen to a word a demon says. To offer them no quarter, deny them any peace. But maybe it was because he was a demon and it was in his blood too deep already, his mind was already gone. 

Maybe it was because Doomfist was looking at him like he was actually free. Gabriel hadn’t been free since he was eighteen. Maybe it was because Doomfist was looking at him like he actually understood. 

Gabriel stayed in the stuffy room that smelled like Jack. He listened. 

-

Since Gabriel knew quite a bit about the human forces, he was quickly folded into Doomfist’s inner circle of demonic warriors. At first, this translated to a nice, big house of his own in the wastelands. But Gabriel got lost once too often for Doomfist’s liking, needing rescue in the thick black forests that surrounded his new home. As Doomfist took him back to the house, Gabriel watched Doomfist look him up and down. Doomfist knew he drank alone, Doomfist knew he was having trouble hunting. 

Doomfist had him move in with Widowmaker after that. Widowmaker, Doomfist told him, was the best hunter in the Wildlands. Gabriel eyed the long stinger hanging off her head, its venom visibly glinting, and nodded. 

“Doomfist said you led the Holy Army,” Widowmaker said to him, later that night. Doomfist had left and she was reading in the study and Gabriel was wandering aimlessly around the house, as he had taken to doing. He paused in the doorway.

“Not led the whole thing,” Gabriel said. “But I was a Priest-Commander.” Widowmaker nodded, her eyes still on the book. Gabriel leaned against the door frame. “Are you worried about me?”

Widowmaker laughed. “No.” She finally looked up at Gabriel, bemused. “Apologies. I don’t mean that as a slight on your abilities. My, ah, presence accepted, Doomfist seems to believe in you quite a bit.” 

“I guess that’s what I don’t understand,” Gabriel said. “Why should he believe in someone that was his enemy until very recently?”

“Because you’re not human anymore.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m his friend,” Gabriel said. “Demons fight each other all the time, don’t they?”

“They do,” Widowmaker said. “But even I can see you have potential. And Doomfist’s much better at this than I am. I trust him.”

“I don’t really know what to say to that.”

“That makes sense,” Widowmaker said. She glanced out the window, then down at her book. “I’m sorry, but the sun’s setting fast. I kind of wanted to finish this chapter before I hunted for us. Do you mind…?”

“Good night, Widowmaker.”

“Widow,” she said, and turned the page.

Widow certainly hunted, and hunted well. Gabriel became accustomed to waking up with corked bottles of blood sitting at his doorstep, bits of viscera sometimes smeared at their rims. In the early hours of the morning, he could sometimes hear Widowmaker disposing of the bodies. 

How Widow felt about their arrangement, Gabriel couldn’t quite tell at first. They spoke only briefly, mainly about skirmishes or food. He knew she was unswervingly loyal to Doomfist, and that helped explain it. Part of her loyalty was likely her martial relevance– her name was brought up often in the strategic meetings Gabriel was let in on. 

But there was also clearly some personal allegiance there. Doomfist was often in the drawing room with her, drinking wine and laughing quietly at things Gabriel was too afraid to ask about. And while Gabriel kept waiting and watching, he was yet to see any payment or quid pro quo come from the babysitting job Widow had agreed to. She seemed to have done this, Gabriel believed, for no reason other than Doomfist asked her to. 

It was nice to see kindness in the Wildlands, even if it wasn’t necessarily directed at him. And Gabriel appreciated not having to keep trying to hunt. But living with Widow did make it very hard for him to sneak out and see Jack. 

Gabriel had fervently believed, as soon as his mind came back to him, that he would never see Jack again now that he was a demon. He had believed that because he loved Jack. He loved Jack because Jack was brave, Jack was kind, because Jack saw people when their superiors saw weights on the war’s scale. If he went to Jack, Jack wouldn’t kill him like he should. Jack would cry and pet his hair and tell Gabriel how much he had missed him. Jack would let Gabriel stay in their home. Jack would know that it was an objectively terrible idea for a man of his rank, devoted to preserving human life and human settlements, to literally be in bed with a demon, and he would do it anyway. 

Gabriel loved Jack so he would not let Jack do the stupid shit Jack was bound to do. This was a good, steadfast conviction Gabriel held right until the moment he saw Jack again. 

It was on a battlefield, the first Gabriel had set foot on since he had changed sides. He had dreaded the moment for weeks, unsure if he could commit, terrified what would happen if he hesitated. But once blood spilled it became fantastically easy. He was always some kind of hungry, and all he had to do now was eat. 

He saw Jack when he was rising up from a meal– some soldier whose face had sloughed off, who he couldn’t recognize. Jack had stared at him, his armor shining but flecked with dirt. Holding up the banner proclaiming the city’s right to stay and spread. Gabriel had stared back, vaguely aware that there was blood running down his chin. 

Gabriel had run then. But once he had seen Jack, he couldn’t stop thinking about him. Gabriel had told Doomfist all the ways through the city walls. Gabriel could move swiftly and silently through the forest. Jack hadn’t changed where he left the spare key. 

Gabriel found Jack in the dining room, one lamp lit and a plate of chicken gone cold. He cried when he saw Gabriel, but he didn’t tell Gabriel he had missed him. He had kissed Gabriel much harder than Gabriel was expecting, held Gabriel much tighter. He had asked Gabriel, “How long do we have?”

“Tonight,” Gabriel had said. 

“Just tonight?”

“Maybe more nights,” Gabriel had said. “I don’t know. I can try for more.” And Jack had just laughed a little breathlessly and pushed him down on the table and they had stopped talking after that. 

Gabriel had carried Jack to bed when they were done. Jack had protested weakly but pressed his head against Gabriel’s chest. Gabriel could feel him frown when there was no heartbeat for him to listen to. 

Jack’s bed, their old bed, was a mess. The sheets were the same as when Gabriel had last left them, and Gabriel’s side of the bed was covered in dirty clothes and papers. “I guess I’ve never gotten to ask this before,” Jack had said, as Gabriel set him down. “But like… how do you feel? How different are you, now? Can you– can I–“

Gabriel waited for him to finish the sentence. Jack didn’t. He just lay in the pillows, staring up at Gabriel with wide eyes and crows feet. Gabriel could feel how badly he wanted Gabriel to answer him and Gabriel felt so sorry for him. He knew how much it hurt to hunger. 

Gabriel kissed Jack’s forehead. Brushed hair out of his face. “Demons always lie,” Gabriel told him. “Isn’t that the first thing they teach us?”

Jack closed his eyes, and Gabriel left. 

Gabriel arrived back at the mansion in the Wildlands as the sun was beginning to rise. As he walked through the front door, Widow opened a door and emerged from a descending staircase Gabriel had not known was even there. 

“I didn’t know you went out,” Widow said, as Gabriel stood stock still. “What were you doing?”

She did not ask it in an accusatory tone, but Gabriel still found himself struggling for an adequate answer. “I was out hunting,” he finally said. Widow looked around him, and Gabriel was quite aware there was no food to be found. “I didn’t do well,” he elaborated. 

“Where were you hunting?” Widow asked. “I found patrols straying far from the wall, and they’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

“I didn’t go that far,” Gabriel said. Widow frowned. 

“Why? You know all that’s in the woods around here is lesser demons. And that’s far worse than anything I bring home.”

Her gaze was becoming much more penetrating, and Gabriel was very aware of her studying his ruffled clothes, the marks on his neck. The flush in his cheeks, like he had only allowed himself the smallest sip of blood before he had pulled back, Jack staring at him and gaping and saying, all fucked up post-orgasm, “You can if it doesn’t kill me.”

“You know, I know people at the clubs,” Widow said. “You probably had to wait in line. I could have gotten you in faster, if you had let me know.”

“I didn’t–“ Before Gabriel could recognize that yes, having gone to a club in the city where demons and gradients of humans mingled was far more acceptable, if more embarrassing, Widow had cocked her head and raised an eyebrow. 

“Ah,” she said. 

“No,” Gabriel replied. 

“I’m not going to tattle on you, Gabriel,” Widow said. “I would just say. Think about it.”

“Stop.”

“They’re not the person you left them as. You can’t play house with them anymore.”

“I’m not planning to,” Gabriel said sullenly. “It was just one night.”

“Of course,” Widow said. Then she paused, then she asked, “Who were they? Back when you were human.”

“My husband,” Gabriel said. He was very aware of who he was addressing, but Widowmaker just nodded. 

“Don’t be stupid,” she said. “I can’t look out for you all the time. Especially not in there.” Then she handed Gabriel his bottles and walked away, leaving him alone in the foyer, dawn light starting to slip in, his hands full of blood.


	2. Chapter 2

Gabriel thought about never seeing Jack again after that. Letting Jack think it was just a dream, or some trick a demon pulled that would just make him hate them more. It would certainly be the kinder thing to do. It would be some gesture to his ruined convictions. 

Gabriel kept going to Jack. It was easy to fall when Jack was there to help. Gabriel noticed how street patrols tended to be routed away from Jack’s house the nights he was expected. He noticed the scarves and high-collared shirts Jack would sweep off his bed. The first few times, Gabriel had restrained himself and asked Jack, mentally preparing himself to run from the delicious smell of their closeness, the way he could almost, almost, taste Jack’s blood. But Gabriel noticed that Jack started turning his head, opening up the long line of his neck for Gabriel. Even shoving Gabriel onto it once, when Gabriel felt like teasing. 

Gabriel arrived back at the mansion around the time Widow finished her butchering. So he noticed Widow’s meaningful looks too, and her little sighs. Gabriel ignored them. 

After she had brought Sombra home, she had no right to judge. 

Gabriel had not even fully gauged Sombra as a hunter when he first saw her. Anyone who spent too much time around demons grew like them sooner or later– Jack was growing paler and his teeth were getting sharper. Sombra wore it more naturally. Her eyes glowed orange and her face was partially shadowed, even in the even light of the sitting room. She was sitting with Widow on one of the sofas, a silver tray with cups and a pitcher before them. Sombra said something and then laughed at her own joke, and Widow had sincerely smiled. Widow’s reaction had struck Gabriel as stranger than Sombra’s presence. 

But his sense of smell was far sharper as a demon. And as Sombra raised her cup to her lips, he could smell that it was coffee. 

“What the hell is going on here?” he asked. Widow jumped in her seat. Sombra kept the cup at her lips and raised her eyes. Even with her face somehow shaded, Gabriel could see her smile slightly. 

“Sombra,” she told him. “I’m a friend of Widow’s.”

“You’re a human,” Gabriel said flatly. Sombra made a noncommittal noise. Gabriel turned to Widow. “Why did you bring a human into our house?” 

“I didn’t know you had roommates,” Sombra said. 

“Just the one,” Widow said. She was glaring at Gabriel and he felt that, despite all the danger Widow had brought on them, this he might enjoy. “Doomfist is having me babysit.”

“That doesn’t seem like Doomfist,” Sombra said. 

“It is, trust me.”

“Widow,” Gabriel said. “Explain.”

“She’s a valuable agent in a key faction, and she’s willing to work with us,” Widow said. “Doomfist signed off on her and everything.”

Gabriel turned to Sombra. “I don’t recognize you from the Holy Army,” he said. “And the only other officials in the city are warmages. And I worked closely with them. You’re not one of them.”

Sombra took a sip of her coffee. Gabriel wheeled back to Widow. “You didn’t actually–“

“I told you,” Widow said. She was beginning to turn slightly purple and Gabriel realized that was how a being with blue skin blushed. “Doomfist signed off on her. She’s clean. You don’t think it’d be valuable to have a demon hunter on our side?”

“Her entire damn job is to get to demons, no matter how,” Gabriel said. “The Holy Army, they might be stupid for it, but they are very clear about what they do and how they do it. You think someone like her has any problem lying to get to a target?”

“I’m aware of how hunters operate,” Widow snapped.

“Clearly not well enough, if you think she won’t leverage this to the highest bidder!”

“This is an incredible opportunity and if you could actually try to learn something new for once–“

“You brought a demon hunter into our damn home,” Gabriel said, speaking over her. “Just to get laid–“

Widow flew up from her seat, her fists balled. “Oh, like you can talk!”

“Okay.” Sombra stood, and both Gabriel and Widow fell silent. “I actually do want to help, and I don’t think I’m helping by being here right now. So we can meet up later,” she nodded to Widow, then Gabriel, “and it was nice to meet you, Gabe.”

Sombra walked past him, towards the front door. Widow sank back down in the sofa and stared blandly at Gabriel, waiting for it to register. After a moment, it did, and he spun on his heels and ran after Sombra. 

He caught her before she left, and she turned to face him with that same slight smile. “How?” he asked. 

“It’s funny, it’s how I met Widow in the first place,” Sombra said. “Your husband hired me to kill her.”

“He didn’t tell you about me,” Gabriel said. “He’d have absolutely no reason to. He wouldn’t.”

“Calm down, he didn’t. I’m just good at my job.” Sombra’s smile widened and the shadows on her face seemed to spread. “And I mean, you’ve done a number on him. With how you smell, it wasn’t exactly hard to put the pieces together.”

“Widow didn’t tell you.”

“What? Oh, no. Of course not.” Gabriel was silent and Sombra tilted her head. “You feeling embarrassed?”

“No.”

“Don’t be,” Sombra said anyway. “It’s not like no one else here does it. The clubs on the border have never been doing better.”

“I don’t go to those.” 

“Ah,” Sombra said. “Don’t worry about that, either. I’d be very surprised if anyone else knows. He’s safe.”

Gabriel had just told Widow how little they could trust a hunter, how she would use any angle, no matter how low, to manipulate them. But he could not help himself from saying to her, “He’s starting to change.”

“Everyone changes,” Sombra said blithely. “They’ll assume it’s because he’s so brave, being down in the trenches fighting those demons. They’re idiots, they have no clue how that shit happens. He’ll be fine.”

Gabriel nodded and, after a moment, said, “Thank you.” Sombra reached up and patted his cheek.

“I told you,” she said. “I’m here to help. So don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

Gabriel knew an implied threat when he heard one, and Gabriel knew when he was beaten. He nodded again and Sombra walked out the door. In the sitting room, Widow was cleaning up the coffee cups. 

“This stuff looks foul,” she said to Gabriel. “You didn’t drink it when you were human, did you?”

Gabriel poured himself a large glass of blood and fell back into the couch. Widow walked away with the dirty dishes, humming to herself.

-

Doomfist had indeed approved of Sombra. That became clear when he started regularly showing up at the mansion to meet with Sombra present. His orange eyes flared blue whenever Sombra made some sarcastic jab at his expense, but Sombra brought intelligence from every corner of the city. And Doomfist seemed to trust her. 

The more he worked with him, the less stupid Gabriel found it. The first time they had met, Doomfist had approached him believing that Gabriel’s loyalty was a forgone conclusion. He hadn’t been wrong. Sombra was far more canny and resourceful than Gabriel was now, but he could understand why she would throw in with Doomfist over her own kind. When Doomfist gave some indication that respected you, it felt like it had weight, it felt like you could trust it. Gabriel had never had that in the Holy Army and from what he knew of demon hunter politicking and backstabbing, he doubted Sombra had found it there. In the middle of the Wildlands Doomfist was someone solid and powerful, and that was the safest bet one could find. 

Doomfist being present so often, however, meant it was even harder for Gabriel to keep his secrets. Ana had given Jack some charm that let him teleport to the mansion. While Gabriel was grateful not to have to dance around guards and disassemble wards every night, Doomfist had a propensity for staying late and Jack had a propensity for showing up drunk.

“You don’t drink like this at your house,” Gabriel said one night. 

“I never have enough warning,” Jack said. “And it’s our house. We bought the damn place together.”

“Jack.”

“You’ve called it that before. You still think of it that way too. I’m not being stupid about this.” 

His tone was defiant but his eyes were pleading. Gabriel sighed and rolled over so his forearm braced across Jack’s bare chest. Jack turned his head to the side and Gabriel winced, that Jack fucking expected that from him now.

“You’re never stupid,” Gabriel said. “I love you. I wouldn’t keep seeing you if I didn’t love you. But things aren’t like they were before. And they aren’t going to go back to that.”

“We can try, though,” Jack said. “Ana said you can fight it, with enough willpower. You can fight it. We can save some of it.”

They hadn’t talked about this, all the months they’d been seeing each other again, and all of a sudden Gabriel knew why. Jack expecting him to want to come back had him remembering lying in a coffin, its walls translucent, as he grew angrier and angrier at every incompetent, uncaring official that had put him here. Jack assumed Gabriel was lost. He loved Jack. But he loved what he had found in that coffin too.

“Why should I come back, Jack,” Gabriel said quietly. Jack shut his eyes. “Do you think I would just live in house arrest all day? Or do you think I would re-enlist? As a double agent? Risk my life all over again, for what?”

“For the people,” Jack whispered. He said it in that way Gabriel had never fully understood, where Jack could say the corniest shit and make it clear he earnestly believed it. “They deserve to be protected.”

“Protected from what? Me?”

“Gabe.”

“No, really, answer me, Jack. I’m still here, aren’t I?” Gabriel moved his thumb over Jack’s lips and instinctively, Jack opened them, letting Gabriel’s brush over his sharpened canines. “And you’re still here. It’s not so bad like this, is it?”

“They’re trying to destroy everything we fought for.”

“Everything we fought for tried to destroy me. But I’m still here.” 

Jack looked up at him. Gabriel was suddenly very aware that he was lying completely on top of Jack, that they were both still naked, that he was starting to get hard again against Jack’s thigh. Jack tilted his neck back once more and this time, Gabriel leaned into it. He threaded one hand in Jack’s hair, wrapped the other around Jack’s waist, pulling Jack up even as he pressed down with his body weight. Keeping Jack as close as possible as Jack’s blood spilled into his mouth.

Jack seemed tired, fucked out and quite literally drained. But when Gabriel started rocking gently into the space between his thighs, Jack shuffled them closer to make a tighter channel. Gabriel moaned into his neck. He had been so fucking embarrassed at first, how horny drinking blood had made him. The first few times he had slunk into the bathroom, jerked off surreptitiously like a teenager as his husband lay in bed next door. Jack had figured it out quickly, though. Started fondly Gabriel’s cock lazily as he stretched out for Gabriel. Bent his knee a bit and had Gabriel hump his leg while he took rocky slurps from Jack’s neck.

Given Gabriel thighs to fuck into, all slick with sweat and cum spilling out from between his legs, when Gabriel had fucked him properly earlier in the night. Gabriel could feel Jack’s breath hitch and he drew back from Jack’s neck. His mouth was filled with blood, so full he could feel some of it dripping down his chin. Jack stared up at him as he swallowed. Jack’s irises were red now, Gabriel noticed. They had been blue before.

Jack made weak little attempts to fuck back against Gabriel, sighing a little when Gabriel’s cock brushed against his crotch. Gabriel brought a hand down and spread Jack open, rub his cock against Jack’s, but Jack brushed him away.

“I’m good. Too much.”

Gabriel raised up, hovering even when Jack intertwined their legs. “I can stop.”

“No,” Jack said, tired but firm. “I like this. Finish.”

Gabriel kissed him. Jack rocked his hips up, moaning softly in a way that made Gabriel hungry all over again. “I’ll take care of you in the morning,” Gabriel murmured.

“Yeah,” Jack breathed. Then he pulled Gabriel close to him, kept his thighs around Gabriel’s dick, and sighed when Gabriel came between them.

Jack wrapped his arms and legs around Gabriel and fell immediately asleep after that. So Gabriel had lain there, caged by his husband. Gabriel slept far less as a demon so he had plenty of time to ruminate on every expression Jack had made, every word he had chosen, the fact that cum was drying on his leg hair and the mansion didn’t have great plumbing. He loved Jack, he wanted to be with Jack. He loved being a demon and he hoped so badly that Jack did not love the human he had married more than the demon he was in bed with.

He had told Jack he would take care of him in the morning. So at the first signs of light, Gabriel carefully disentangled himself and headed down to the kitchen. 

The kitchen was a haphazard thing Widow had thrown together when Sombra started staying over. There were pitchers of water and some tins of cookies Widow had thought looked pretty. One of Sombra’s hunts, Widow had spotted a small gas stove in the trash, and the three of them together had eventually gotten it working again. Gabriel risked stealing some of what Sombra had informed them was “the good coffee,” placed the mug and some of the more intact cookies on a tray, and headed back down the hallway. He had made it to the staircase when he heard, “Gabriel?”

Mechanically, Gabriel walked into the study, still balancing the tray. There was a lamp on and the burning fissures of Doomfist’s body helped illuminate the room. Doomfist was studying papers spread out over a map of the Wildlands. He did not look up when Gabriel walked in. “What are you doing with that?” he asked. 

“Widow needs it for Sombra,” Gabriel said. 

“She didn’t get it herself?”

“She didn’t want to disturb Sombra. By getting up.”

“But she was able to ask you? You were in her room?”

“No– I was–” Doomfist shuffled his papers, setting one down on the far corner of the map. “She had loaned me a book, so I went into her room when I woke up, and she asked me then, and so that’s why… I… got this for her.” 

When it became clear that was all Gabriel had to offer Doomfist set down his papers and looked up at Gabriel. “Are you still working with the Holy Army?” he asked. 

“No,” Gabriel said. Doomfist’s eyes shone through the shadows, the orange sometimes spiking into blue. The light was still too dim for Gabriel to truly make out his expression.

“Are you working with a rival group of demons?”

“No.”

“Alright,” Doomfist said. Then he picked up his papers again. Gabriel stood awkwardly in the doorway and after a minute, Doomfist sighed and looked up at him. “I don’t care what you do in your spare time, Gabriel.” He looked meaningfully at the tray in Gabriel’s hands. “Or who you do.”

“Why not?” Gabriel asked. He felt rooted to the spot, numbed with fear despite Doomfist’s calm.

“Do you know what makes a demon, Gabriel?” Gabriel shook his head. “Suffering. Not the transformation, but before. You suffered as a human, and when you became a demon, you stopped accepting that suffering. You fought back instead. You became stronger. And you ended your suffering, in ways you never were strong enough to do as a human.” Doomfist leaned forward slightly. “And how did that feel, Gabriel?”

Gabriel swallowed and did not say anything. Doomfist’s glowing eyes tilted down again. “Unlike the Army, I don’t need to press people into service, Gabriel. People will fight for the opportunity to evolve. These sorts of things always fall in my favor.”

“You’re not going after him,” Gabriel said. Doomfist laughed. 

“You really are a slow learner, aren’t you?” he said. “No, no I’m not.” He lifted his head up and Gabriel could see that he was smiling. “I like you, Gabriel. That isn’t conditional on whether or not you like me. But I thought you should know that.”

“I like you too,” Gabriel said. Doomfist’s bright eyes studied him for a moment. Then he nodded and turned back to his papers, still smiling. Gabriel walked upstairs. 

Widow was setting bottles outside his door as he approached. He could hear heavy breathing as he passed her bedroom door. “Sombra staying over?” he asked. Widow nodded. “I can make more coffee.”

Widow leaned up and kissed his cheek. “You’re an angel,” she said. She slipped into her bedroom and Gabriel slipped into his. He set the tray on Jack’s side of the bed, the bottles on his. Jack was still fast asleep and he smiled as Gabriel crawled into bed next to him.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m [@tacticalgrandma](https://twitter.com/tacticalgrandma) on twitter if you want to talk to me there!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and any comments or kudos would mean the world to me 💜


End file.
